


such a thrill (when your radials squeal)

by palponda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sheev Palaptine, Canon Compliant, Car Sex, Character Study, Crack Treated Seriously, Daddy Issues, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hondo is kind of the Chosen One, Hurt No Comfort, Inaniminate Object Fucking, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mechanophilia, Missing Scene, Mpreg, No beta we die like the Honda, Other, Palponda, Patricide, Sheev Palpatine is Hondo’s father, Top Honda, Why Did I Write This?, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palponda/pseuds/palponda
Summary: “Although [Palpatine] despised his father, more than any other member of his family, the two were not without their similarities. Aside from an inherited violent streak, both father and son shared aninsatiable passionfor speeder racing.” -WookieepediaSheev Palpatine has always had a need for speed.
Relationships: Hego Damask | Darth Plagueis & Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Hego Damask | Darth Plagueis/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious - one sided, Hondo Ohnaka & Sheev Palpatine, Sheev Palpatine & Sheev Palpatine’s Father, Sheev Palpatine/Honda (Car)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 18





	1. don't have to listen to no run of the mill talk jive

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to hell! This fanfic exists because we were discussing the crack possibility of Palpatine/Hond **o** , and a friend misread it as Palpatine/Hond **a**. And now here we are, several months later, dealing with the consequences of our actions.
> 
> We’re three anonymous authors, though, if you know, you know. Each one of us has written a single chapter, and we’ll be posting once a day. The next chapter will be horribly explicit and cursed, and can be skipped, though we have no idea why you would want to.  
> Fic title and chapter titles are from “I’m In Love With My Car” by Queen.
> 
> Author #1: I can and I will make this a Sheev Palpatine character study. Also read Wild Space Chapter 7.
> 
> Enjoy?

The world was drowning in fire.

It burned with an intensity never seen before, burying more and more with its ashes. In the distance, cracks like lightning drowned out all other sounds. Sheev felt himself get lost in the sensation; all the thoughts of the peace and harmony he used to wish for when he was still a naïve child had left him long ago.

He had been a foolish creature of even more ignorant hopes then.

Now he only wished to drown out the pain that already was with even more noise and suffering. The only thing grounding him was the ache of his nails digging into his palms, leaving behind crescent-shaped imprints that would soon start to bleed if he kept applying the same pressure.

He was well aware that he hadn't left the present, that he was still standing in lavishly decorated rooms, family portraits, and expensive paintings covering the walls while his mother's perfect and oh so _precious_ golden flowers stood in every windowsill, displaying their wealth for all to see.

He had always thought that her desperation to show off that their house was still one of the most powerful and wealthy ones despite its rash decline was incredibly pitiful. Real power didn't come from such displays. He knew it was crafted into beautifully crafted words, even more delicate actions.

What use was all this circus if you weren't getting the masses to feed out of your hands? All his teachers' lectures about the common good, the peace reigning on their planet, idiocy like it had rarely been seen before. Privately, and sometimes openly, he had laughed at them, earning himself the one or the other outbreak when they had become offended by his words.

Hypocrites, all of them, putting themselves on a pedestal when not even a day's travel away, the Gungans were living in their dirty swaps. Nobody cared to ask them what they thought of this planet they all shared, and yet his teachers all acted as if the Naboo had invented democracy and all that was good and just in the galaxy.

"—your sister would never! You are an affront to this house—are you even listening to me!?"

Sheev looked away from his mother's prized flowers to stare at his father's flushed face. Anger was rolling off him in waves, shame and desperation mixing in as well. His father was such a soft and stupid man.

He _hated_ him.

He hadn't truly understood hatred for the longest time. He still thought that he didn't entirely grasp it when he memorized in those ancient texts in the dead of night, singing the words of the old Sith scribes like prayers. He found new definitions for loathing when he read the messages Damask sent him, treating them like love letters describing sweet red roses instead of the blood of the thousands necessary to build what would be an honest society. Everyone was always lying, pretending, playing games just so that they wouldn't lose whatever pitiful imitation of power they had gained.

His father, screaming as he was at Sheev now, didn't possess any real power, and Sheev thought he might hate him even more for it. If he had least been honestly angry about the girl, well, perhaps then Sheev could understand his outrage.

But no, his father didn't even care about her. Not that she would have been a grand contributor to society anyway, dressed as a whorish as she had been. She had had it coming for her. It wasn't his fault that she hadn't looked properly at the street, drunk as she had been, and had gotten caught beneath his speeder.

She should have simply watched out and been a little smarter. It must be so _exhausting_ to be as dumb as a gundark and live every day. Though, perhaps, Sheev carried the greater burden with his understanding of how the world truly worked. His Mentor certainly thought so. He had called Sheev _brilliant_ when they had argued over the true purpose of ruling and reigning, said he'd make a great addition to a court someday.

"We ought to send you to a correctional facility! But no, it would bring shame to us. When will you finally get your act together, boy?"

"Is that everything, father?" Sheev asked, bored. He didn't see the point in listening to him. His father was just spouting the wisdom of buffoons. Even the idiot in a play would manage to be smarter than his father. If he were just a little more daring, their name wouldn't be on the downfall. Who would care about Sheev's rushes, his desperate need for speed and escape into the winds, those waves that submerged him deep in darkness so bright he felt it cradle him like a lover's embrace?

"You—!" His father snarled once more and Sheev, not expecting it, reacted a split-second too late when he saw his father's raised hand. The sound of skin connecting with skin echoed loudly in the living room. Sheev could hear his sister gasp from where she was standing in the entrance hall. Her wide gray eyes, their mother's, were opened in shock, and yet she didn't dare do anything, too caught up in her own fantasy.

And his mother was just standing there, face impassive as Sheev held his burning cheek.

"You killed a person! This must stop! Until you have changed, you are under house arrest! And that is final."

The glass cracked.

The flames of before now burned in Sheev's veins, anger rising high in outrage. How _dare_ his father speak to him like that, act like he had anything resembling a spine?

Sheev wanted to fall to the darkness again, reach out with it and separate his father's head from his neck, paint their oh so glorious home in red, red, _red_ , channel his anger until it was as thin and sharp as a scalpel.

"Only fools use their anger like a blunt weapon," Damask had said, his hand covering Sheev's as he showed him how to wield a dagger. "We are more precise."

"You are—"

"Don't you dare raise your hand against me," Sheev growled.

"I am your father!"

"You are nothing!" Sheev shrieked back and turned around. He wasn't going to spend another second in their presence. He wouldn't tolerate it. Furious, he turned around on his heels, grabbing his black coat from the chair he had thrown it over.

"You are not going anywhere!" his father shouted but made no attempts to follow him as Sheev left the house. He pulled up his black hoodie and walked down the road that would take him past the living area and near the harbor, his destination. As the sun shined above in the sky and birds sung, he imagined a world clouded by shadows. It was what all of them deserved, wishing for unobtainable happiness.

"Sheev!"

Sheev looked up as he heard another person call out for him. From across the street, he spotted three of the people he was fairly sure he shared a class or two with. Eagerly, they crossed the street to talk to him.

"Oh, Sheev, hello," one of them, an attractive blond man, said. The girl next to him giggled, and so did the other person. "I didn't know you were already back home. I was so sure the police would keep you longer."

Sheev snorted. "Why would they? They can't chain me down."

Victory would break all chains on him, and Sheev was a Queen, the most powerful piece on the board.

"Well, yes, but we heard the accusations were pretty bad… Anyway!" The trio batted their eyes at him in an entirely unattractive manner. "We were wondering whether you'd want to go out with us?"

All that Sheev could feel at that moment was disgust. As slimy as dirt, rot, and decay, it clung to him. Revulsion shook his entire body at the thought of being close to them for even a second longer. No, he wouldn't be able to bear it. They were only after him for the money, and while he could, to some degree, admire such ambitions, they should be smarter and know that he was miles out of their league.

Never mind that his heart already belonged to another. Dedicated to the Dark as Sheev was, it was only in the dark that he could be completed, find sweet release with a touch so divine, it alone was enough to bring him to completion, pleasure so radiant that he could get lost in it.

These mortal fools could never bring him such pleasure, such ecstasy.

"No," Sheev replied, then with more Force in his voice, said, "Leave me alone."

As if in a daze, the three walked away.

Delighted, Sheev thought that he had to share these news with his love and with his Mentor. They had to know how rich with the dark side he already was; it was growing in him like a child,

Certainly, both would be impressed with the advances he had already made. Soon he would be ready to give himself to the dark fully, embrace and live in it like he had been born for it. Perhaps he indeed had been. It would explain why the only time he truly felt like himself, genuinely free when he was not with his lover, was when he was finding his rushes in other ways. With the wind tousling his long red locks, the scenery passing by, that was the Dark Side.

In a much better mood already, Sheev continued his walk towards the harbor.

He had asked Damask for a stipend to rent a storage unit there. Of course, his lover deserved better, much better, but Sheev didn't yet have the finances to afford such. And while he was sure that Damask would pay for it if he only were to ask, Sheev wanted to be at least a bit more independent. It wouldn't bode well for their future together if Sheev were to rely on a third party so heavily.

Finally, Sheev had reached his destination. Practically running to his storage unit, Sheev hurried to get to his lover as quick as possible. He fumbled for the key to the door, his heart beating wildly in anticipation. It took him more than one try to unlock the door, but finally, he managed it. He quickly shut it behind him again, not wanting anyone to see.

Then, turning on the lights, he was finally face-to-face with his lover again. Her red color was the color of temptation, just begging Sheev to shrug out of his clothes and display himself on top of her.

But no, Sheev had to be patient, get in the right mindset first before he could approach his lover. If he really wanted to get closer to the Dark Side with this act, he needed to focus.

So he focused on the smooth curves, on the rush he experienced, the feeling of leather against his bare thighs.

Only then, when he knew he was ready, he opened his eyes again and allowed himself to speak.

"Hello, darling."


	2. with my hands on your grease gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly you can skip this chapter and I would strongly encourage you to do so. I wrote this and I haven’t even read through it properly.

Two months later, Palpatine crept into the storage unit in the dead of the night, the light from Naboo’s moon casting pale white light on the speeders inside. He’d had to get a new storage unit, a larger one to fit in the countless vehicles here, so many of them beautiful in their own ways. Open topped ones designed for cruising through the countryside, fast and sleek speeders built for sailing off into the distance at sonic speeds, the one that was made almost entirely from gold, soft and malleable but stunning all the same. But there was only one car Palpatine cared about tonight. His gorgeous, perfect red Honda. The only person he’d ever loved in his twenty years of existence.

He approached her from behind, rounding around her so he could admire her in her full beauty. The wing mirrors that reflected everything perfectly, the black leather seats that always held him tight in summer. The headlights like eyes, holding galaxies within their simple LEDs. The lascivious smile across her grid, dripping with lust. He ran a hand among her paintwork, grinning at the bit of dirt that clung to his fingers, “My, my, you’ve been a dirty girl haven’t you?” he crooned.

“When am I not?” she drawled back.

“You’re lucky I’m alright with a bit of filth, my dearest,” Palpatine told her. He opened her door, sliding inside of her to get the engine revving. He’d want the exhaust pipe to be warm for later. He played with all her buttons in the meantime, feeling her shudder when he found a way to especially please her. He turned on some Jizz music, smooth and heavy and perfectly fitting for the mood. He turned her steering wheel, twisting her tires just right.

She moaned, “I love it when you do that to me.”

“Of course you do,” he crooned, straightening them out with a harsh twist. Her exhaust pipe would be warm enough by now. He turned the engine off and emerged, leaving her door open, her delicate interior exposed for the world to see. He stalked around to the back. His pants dropped with a quiet flump to the ground of the hangar. And he inserted his Palpapeen into her warm, rough exhaust pipe.

Her suspension moaned with pleasure as he thrusted. “Harder, Sheev, harder!” she yelled. 

Palpatine did all he could, arms wrapped around her boot. She was a big girl, her body weighing a little over a tonne. Palpatine liked big girls. They could satisfy him in a way those skinny little hoverbikes never could. He thrust again, his body aching for release but he denied it for a while longer.

Smoke spluttered out of the exhaust pipe just as he climaxed too. It was ecstasy, complete and utter ecstasy. They moaned in sync, Palpatine feeling weak at the knees from all the emotions going through him. He loved her so much. 

“I want more,” she told him. 

Palpatine looked down at his flaccid Palpapeen. “Well then, you’ll have to do that yourself.”

“I will?” she crooned back.

“Or we could do what I always like.” He said, muttering into her wing mirror as he pulled off his tunic, leaving himself bare to the world.

She laughed, her tone sultry. “You want me to run you over, don’t you?”

“Yes Hondaddy,” he moaned, “As hard as you like.”

“As hard as I like? Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“I can withstand anything for your love,” Palpatine told her. “Especially for your love.”

She laughed, “Well then, lie down for me.”

Palpatine lay, spread eagle on the ground, his stomach to the ground in order to protect his Palpapeen from the more direct force of the tires. And his wonderful Honda reversed onto him, tires creaking as they collided with his feet and legs, snaking their way up agonisingly slowly towards his back. And then they found their place, pressing him into the concrete with every backwards and forwards motion. He could feel every bump on the ground being imprinted into his skin, feel the patterns taking place, her markings of love. He moaned, incoherent in his bliss. This was everything he could ever ask for. Everything he could ever want. Her wires dropped down, the frayed end of an aux cord dripping down from her still open door. Sparks travelled down it, shocking Palpatine and leaving him riddled with goosebumps from the tingly feeling that travelled through him. The warm friction of the concrete pairing perfectly with the cold, cold air of the hangar they were in. The Honda became harder in her pushing, kneading him deeper into the ground.

When it reached that point of perfection, just before overstimulation, she pulled off, leaving him shaking and satiated. He could feel the marks she left on his back, like fingerprints. He’d have to cover those when he got dressed, wouldn’t be able to allow anyone to see them, that would create questions and well, part of the fun of their love was how secret he was. But those marks, those bits of evidence of his so called deviance only added to the thrill of the experience. He straightened, every joint in his back clicking into place after having been lovingly reconfigured by his beloved Honda. There were noises outside and when he looked out the window, the first light of morning was creeping across the skyline. He needed to go soon. He took the keys out of the ignition, taking that little bit of his beloved with him wherever he went and closed her door. “I’ll see you soon,” he told her, kissing her beautiful mouth grid, tasting the general dirt of Naboo’s streets against his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too my Palpypie,” she told him, nudging him affectionately in the knee. 

And with that he threw his clothes on and fled, prepared for another day at work.

...

Palpatine didn’t have the opportunity to see his beloved again for another three weeks. Between all the soirees and general social preening that came with being a rising politician as well as the demands that his new Sith Master was putting upon him, there hadn’t been much time to see her. The guilt of this ate into his heart but he hadn’t had a choice. He only hoped that she’d be able to understand. 

There she was, sat in the same parking spot he’d left her last time. He hoped that she hadn’t been bored, that the memories of last time would keep her satiated until now. Even so, he went in apologetically, “Hondaddy, my beloved. I’m so sorry it’s been so long.” He held the fine oil he’d gotten her behind his back. Hoping to surprise her with the gift in a moment, gauging her reaction first.

She sighed. “I suppose I am no longer at the top of your priorities, am I Sheev?”

“Of course you are my beloved, it is just I often must prioritise what will give us the best future rather than what will let us have the best time now.” He sighed, “It’s a weak excuse I know, but I got you some oil. The finest stuff the mechanics had. Apparently using it is akin to bathing in bliss itself. It will leave you smooth and sleek on the inside and out.”

“Hm, alright. Bribe accepted,” her frown lessened somewhat. “But you will not leave me for this long again.”

“Of course not,” he told her. “I will do better next time.”

“You better. I won’t have this conversation with you again.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to have to,” Palpatine told her. “I take it that tonight will be a quieter evening?”

“Just because I’m angry doesn’t mean I’m not horny,” she told him.

Palpatine purred. That was his Honda.

They went through their usual process, Palpatine releasing his Palpapeen into her parts until he was satiated and both of them allowing their noises of pleasure to echo across the room. But then when he lay on the ground for her to roll over him, she refused. “Palpatine, I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked. “Is this over what happened? Again, my love, I am so sorry for leaving you.”

“No, Palpatine, can’t you sense it, look into the force.”

He closed his eyes and felt something twisting within his gut. He could feel that little ball of life that wasn’t his own. “I’m pregnant.” The words were as fragile as the bundle of cells inside of him.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“Celebrate,” he said, hugging her body as best he could. “We will celebrate it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.


End file.
